


Flame

by Askeebe



Series: Never Let Me Go [7]
Category: Mass Effect
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-09
Updated: 2015-08-09
Packaged: 2018-04-13 20:32:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4536360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Askeebe/pseuds/Askeebe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thane thinks his Commander is treading too close to the battlesleep that she woke him from.  There is more to life than battle, and he has a gift that will make his point.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Flame

Thane looked curiously around at the Commander's private quarters. It was the first time he had been up here. Usually she visited him in Life Support of an evening, but she had sent him a message, inviting him up here instead. As a change of pace, she had said.

He recognized three of the model ships hanging in the display case. She had worked on and finished each of them in Life Support over the last couple months. Soft instrumental music was playing through the cabin. It was nothing like the raucous screech of drums and metal strings that she preferred when she was exercising in the hangar bay, for which he spared a momentary prayer of thanks.

He had been trained to evaluate a person's private quarters to understand their personality. Each item meant something, even if it was only that they were too lazy to put away their underclothes each night. He was strangely pleased to see that Shepard's quarters were as neat as his own, with nothing out of place. He saw a holo on her desk that had several of her crew in the bar in Eternity on Nos Astra. He remembered the photographer taking that picture, as well as ducking behind Grunt at the last moment. It was deeply ingrained in him to avoid having his photograph taken at any point. That had been only a couple nights after Shepard had recruited him from the Dantius tower. He hadn't been sure of the wisdom of joining them all for a night of drinking, but prudence told him that he should get to know his fellow fighters. He smiled lightly. Now he considered each and every one of them a compatriot, and some of them were even friends. It was a major shift in attitude for him, but a pleasant one.

The most pleasant change of all was his employer, although he rarely thought of her that way anymore. She was his Commander, even though he wasn't military. She was also a siha, although he had yet to tell her what that meant.

He couldn't see her from where he stood by the door. The room was large and luxurious compared to his own industrial quarters in Life Support. He supposed that Cerberus wanted to treat her grandly to make her more receptive to their goals. He doubted she would be so easily swayed though.

"That you, Thane?" Her voice drifted up from the sleeping area, although he couldn't see her. "Come on down."

He glanced at the fish tank that ran the entire length of her cabin. There were several species of fish swimming contentedly. It brought a feeling of peace to him as he watched. He navigated the stairs holding two steaming cups of tea and found her lying back on a black leather couch. She gestured to the small square table. "Just set it down and take a seat. Thanks for coming up here tonight. I appreciate it."

He placed one mug near her and settled himself on the section perpendicular to hers. He looked her over with a critical eye. She was lying at an awkward angle with pillows stuffed behind her back and neck, and there was a pinched look around her eyes and mouth. "Are you in pain, siha?"

She huffed out her breath. "You're harder to fool than Chakwas. Just wrenched my back this afternoon diving out of the way of YMIR mech. I'll be better tomorrow. Hope you don't mind, but I really didn't feel up to sitting in that chair of yours in Life Support tonight."

He only allowed his lips to curve up slightly in acknowledgement, although inside, his heart swelled with gratitude that she desired his company enough to invite him up here rather than cancel what had become an evening routine for them. "Not at all, siha. I freely admit that this is far more comfortable."

She grinned at him. "Does that mean you want an upgrade to leather sofas in your room? Not sure you've got the space." She winced as she reached out for the mug.

He started to help her, but she waved him away. "Actually, can you hand me that bottle by your foot?"

He looked where she indicated and saw a bottle of clear liquor. He handed it to her and watched as she poured a more-than-healthy measure into her tea. "Couldn't Dr. Chakwas prescribe something for the pain?"

She wrinkled her nose and drank deeply from her cup. "Karin knows me too well," she answered cryptically. She added enough liquor to the cup to make up for what she had just drunk. She chuckled as she lifted the bottle in his direction. "Don't worry. Thanks to Cerberus, my tolerance is a lot higher now. But it also has the unfortunate side effect that it's hard to get drunk now."

Thane couldn't see how that was unfortunate, at least in her line of work. He wished he had that problem. He could recall several instances of staking out a target in a bar where he had to keep up the pretense of drinking all night.

"How long have you been on board the SR2," he asked.

She shrugged. "Five months. Why?"

"You have not personalized your space very much," he observed with a gesture to take in the utilitarian space. Indeed, now that he looked again, it was absolutely austere. Even he had personalized his tiny space with a few precious items: his tea mug that Kolyat had decorated for him as a child, his weapons arranged just so, the prayer book by his bed.

Her lips quirked up. He was learning to read her fairly well, and the emotion he got from that was sadness. "I've got my fish," she pointed out.

"That merely takes advantage of the fish tank that the ship designers installed."

"My model ships?"

"You yourself admitted that it was not a hobby until you took command of the SR2 and found the Normandy model in here," he pointed out.

He watched her look around the room. It was clean and pleasant enough, but it reminded him of a fairly upscale hotel room, with nice furnishings, but bland decorations that wouldn't offend a majority of customers. She had no paintings or other artwork. He was willing to bet that her bedsheets were again something designed by the builders. Only the random data pad and bottle of liquor hinted at her personality in the space. He wondered why she kept so much of it hidden away.

She shrugged as she took another drink of her fortified tea. "I lost everything, Thane. Not that I had much to begin with, but I lost a lot when the SR1 was destroyed, and everything else I owned was given away or sold when I was declared dead. Given the mission parameters, it hasn't seemed like a great idea to go out and buy a bunch of stuff just because. If I need a pistol, I'll get one. Otherwise...why bother?"

Her nihilism bothered him, although he was careful not to let it show in his words or tone. "You must be more than just the mission, Shepard."

"Says the assassin who admitted he was in a battle sleep for ten years?" she asked with an arched eyebrow.

He lifted his mug in a slight salute. "I also admitted that it wasn't the healthiest attitude to have. I was too focused on my death instead of the life I still had in front of me. I have you to thank for changing that, siha."

"I'm trying to think of it as practicing Buddhism."

He searched his memories. "A human religious practice that espouses non-attachment to material goods."

She laughed once, sharply. "Bingo. Look how good I am," she said, gesturing around the empty room.

He shook his head and tried to steer the conversation to happier topics. He had noticed that when she drank alcohol, she became melancholy. Or perhaps it was that she only drank when the pain of memories became too strong.

Their conversation was still uppermost in his mind when they docked at the Citadel a few days later. He accompanied Shepard and Garrus to a shop to look at weapon mods. He noticed that all of her stops were related to work - procuring fresh supplies for the Normandy, meeting with her Alliance mentor, Captain Anderson, chaperoning Grunt as he explored one of the wards. Even later in the evening when she met her crew members for drinks, he sensed she was doing it as much to encourage them to relax as for herself.

He excused himself to find a certain shop that he had visited over a decade ago and was extremely pleased to find it still in business. Within seconds, he found something that expressed exactly what he was seeking.

Later that night on the Normandy when the ship was still and quiet, he sent a message to Shepard asking if he could visit. He knew she would likely still be awake, and was proven right when she responded back almost immediately.

"Feeling better, siha?" he asked as he walked into her sitting area.

"Much," she responded with a smile. "I thought you were spending time with Kolyat."

"We met earlier, but he needed to report for duty. He complains about getting the worst shifts. I refrained from pointing out that such is usually typical for young adults in every species and every occupation. Even in my own," he added with a rueful smile that spoke volumes of his past.

She chuckled evilly. "Oh yes. Patrol duty at midnight in the rain, and latrine duty was always a favorite for boots. He'll survive and have something to gripe about just like everyone else."

"Indeed. That is not the purpose of my visit, however," he said as he sat down next to her on the couch. He saw her eyes go to the simple gift box in his hand and could see her hands twitch with suppressed curiosity. "For you," he said as he held it out.

"Why?" she asked with a smile as she lifted the lid off.

Rather than answer, he watched her as she placed the box on the low table. The item was carefully wrapped in an elegantly painted cloth, and he was pleased to see that she appreciated the care in the wrapping and materials as much as the gift. Her face lit up with an inner joy as she lifted the cloth away to reveal the gift beneath. "It's beautiful," she breathed as she reached out one finger to touch it.

"It reminded me of you," he said softly as he watched her.

Carefully, she lifted out the delicate glass sculpture and held it up. It reminded Thane of flames leaping into the air. The base was a deep red and the colors flowed through orange and yellow until the tips were clear glass. Each wispy filament curved gracefully around the others. She twisted it around in her fingers and suddenly paused with her lips making a surprised O. He knew what she saw. When held just so, the individual filaments weaved together to make a silhouette that looked like a dancing feminine figure made of living flames.

"But why?" she asked again, finally prying her eyes away from the sculpture to him.

"There is more to life than the mission, siha. If you do not take time to appreciate the beauty and fragility of life, you may forget what you are fighting for. I would not wish you to lose that inner fire."

"Thane, it's too much..." She turned toward him, perhaps wanting to hand it back to him. He forestalled her with a hand on her wrist.

"It is a gift from me to you, siha. Something with absolutely no utility value, something which is only meant to bring joy to the beholder."

She held it up to the light and twisted it around again. "Thank you," she finally said. "I love it. Sometimes…it's easy to forget how beautiful life can be."

"We have another day on the Citadel," he observed. "If you have some free time, I would be pleased to spend it with you, observing beauty."

She smiled shyly and tucked her hair nervously behind one ear. "I think I can carve out some time," she allowed as she glanced sideways at him.

He smiled back as he settled into the couch. Truth be told, he saw beauty every time he was with her, but he was content keeping that observation to himself.


End file.
